


Your Serve

by larrymylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Ping-Pong, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11316261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/larrymylove
Summary: “Didn’t know you were that good, Lou,” Liam chuckled, wiping his brow, “Looks like I actually have some competition.”Louis grinned, blowing on his nails, “Who’s up next?” He asked, as if he hadn’t just handed Liam his arse.Harry bit his lower lip, still watching from his place on the plush burgundy leather sofa. Niall was beside him, flicking through some game on his phone. Louis smacked the paddle loudly against his hand and Harry felt something inside of him clench. His throat went dry, and his eyes pulled to where Louis was still smacking the damn paddle against his hand. He chewed on his bottom lip, watching the paddle smack, watching Louis look so casual and so coy. Harry shifted uncomfortably on the couch.Louis picked up on his movement, pointing the paddle right at him, “What about you, Haz? You up for a good spanking?”Or, the one where the boys take up playing ping-pong back stage, and the image of Louis with a paddle is making Harry's life difficult; even more so when he comes home to find Louis' bought a ping-pong table of their own.





	Your Serve

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was fun! I couldn't help myself! :)

It started with a ping-pong table backstage one night before one of their shows. Apparently, Liam had put a ping-pong table on the rider, and he and Louis instantly took to the table, grabbing up paddles and going at it, working off some of those pent up nerves buzzing away inside of them. Harry had watched as Louis’ hand gripped the paddle, serving the ball back and forth, smacking the little white ball over the net back and forth, back and forth. By the time their match was over, Liam was staring at Louis with wide eyes, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Didn’t know you were that good, Lou,” Liam chuckled, wiping his brow, “Looks like I actually have some competition.”

Louis grinned, blowing on his nails, “Who’s up next?” He asked, as if he hadn’t just handed Liam his arse.

Harry bit his lower lip, still watching from his place on the plush burgundy leather sofa. Niall was beside him, flicking through some game on his phone. Louis smacked the paddle loudly against his hand and Harry felt something inside of him clench. His throat went dry, and his eyes pulled to where Louis was still smacking the damn paddle against his hand. He chewed on his bottom lip, watching the paddle smack, watching Louis look so casual and so coy. Harry shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

Louis picked up on his movement, pointing the paddle right at him, “What about you, Haz? You up for a good spanking?”

Harry was quite certain that his eyes were wide as saucers as he tried to remember how to breathe, how to form the words to ask, “Wh-what?”

Louis chuckled, smacking the paddle again, “I just gave Liam the thrashing of his life. Think you can actually give me a bit of a competition or am I going to beat you too?”

Harry swallowed to keep from sputtering, “I….I’m not really that good.”

“C’mon,” Louis urged, “It’ll be fun. Besides, you’re never gonna get any better without a bit of practice, babe.”

Harry rolled his eyes. It was something he’d heard a thousand times before from Louis - mostly when Louis was yanking him out of bed in the early morning hours to go kick a football around just the two of them, before the other boys would wake up and come looking for them. Harry would always roll his eyes and flop back down against the mattress until Louis was tugging at his limbs and yanking him from the comfort of his blankets. He didn’t actually mind, not really. It was just part of the game. Besides, time spent alone with Louis was treasured time for Harry. Of course he’d go with him. He’d probably follow Louis to the ends of the earth with a happy smile on his face if all Louis did was ask.

“Fine,” Harry pushed himself up off the couch, “Let’s do this.”

Louis cheered excitedly, pumping his fist in the air. 

In the end, Louis won. Harry had been no competition whatsoever, though it wasn’t exactly his fault. It was just….Louis’ hand looked so good with a paddle in his grasp. Distractions were understandable.

Harry’s troubles didn’t end there, however. The boys all got a kick out of the ping pong table, having little tournaments and getting way too competitive for a simple game of ping-pong. A table appeared in every green room, and Harry wished he could say he’d gotten used to watching Louis play, but it seemed as if every match just made it worse. Louis was so confident, so no-nonsense when it came to the sport. He gripped the paddle as if it were just a natural part of his anatomy. Each flick of his wrist was delicate, but deliberate - powerful. It was ridiculous, really. Harry felt like a proper idiot, having to always excuse himself to get a drink of cold water after watching Louis for anything longer than a few minutes. It was getting to be too much, and he was starting to wonder what was wrong with him. It wasn’t as if he and Louis hadn’t discussed things before, and it wasn’t as if he doubted being able to go to Louis with anything. But this was weird, right? Who wanted to have his boyfriend beat his arse with a ping-pong paddle simply from watching said boyfriend play a few matches with his mates?

It was embarrassing, was what it was. Every time Harry watched Louis flick his wrist, he imagined what it’d feel like to be on the receiving end of that. Sure, there were times when Louis smacked his arse every once in awhile, but it was mostly playful - for Louis anyway. Every time he did it, Harry felt a jolt of electricity. He wanted nothing more than to have Louis lay him out, spread across the mattress, naked and exposed, smacking his arse red with that damn ping pong paddle. 

“You’re just asking for a whipping,” Louis cackled, taking on Niall now at the table. Harry had to bite his cheek to keep from letting out a whimper. He stood from the couch where he’d been watching and headed off to the restroom to splash some cold water on his face and give his reflection a stern talking to. 

“You’re being stupid,” he told his reflection within the locked restroom, watching the water droplets roll down his cheeks, “Pull it together, H. You have got to pull it together. Who gets this bent out of shape like this? You’re being a creep. _Pull it together!_ ”

“Harry, hurry up!” Niall shouted from the hall, “We’re on in ten. Let’s go!”

“Be there in just a second,” Harry called back, turning back to his reflection and glaring at the pink-cheeked boy staring back at him, “ _I mean it,_ ” Harry hissed at the reflection, “ _Pull it the fuck together.”_

Things seemed to settle down after that, at least for awhile. Louis’ attention never stayed on any one thing for long, and soon ping-pong was replaced with games of FIFA and chasing each other around with silly string. And Harry felt a sense of relief wash over him. Finally, no more ping pong, no more ping pong paddles. Everything was good again. All he had to focus on now - instead of popping a stiffy watching his boyfriend play table tennis - was trying to avoid being tackled by said boyfriend and having silly string sprayed into his face until he was hiccuping for mercy. He really couldn’t complain much, when it was all said and done. 

Soon, all thoughts of the ping-pong paddles were forgotten. It’d been months since they’d even touched the ping-pong tables and soon, they stopped showing up in their rooms all together. It was good. Harry felt like things were finally back to normal, that he was finally back to normal.

That is until one day during their Christmas holiday he’d come home to the house he and Louis shared to discover the very bane of his existence sitting in a corner of their living room, a giant red bow on one corner. 

“Uh….Lou?” Harry called, staring at the ping-pong table.

“You’re home!” Louis happily stepped from the kitchen, “What do you think? It’s been awhile since we’ve played and I figured it’d be fun to get back into it. ‘Sides, we could use something new to do to keep us busy if the frost and weather keeps me off the field.”

Harry could feel his mouth fall into a sharp line, and he saw the light drain from Louis’ eyes. “Do you not like it?” He asked, and Harry’s heart jolted.

“No, no baby. I love it. It’s just….it’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, well, I could always chase you around with silly string again, but I don’t really want to deal with trying to figure out how to wash silly string from carpeting. Don’t pout,” Louis nudged him softly, “You’ll get good. By the end of Christmas holiday, you’ll be great! Not as good as me, _obviously_ ,” Louis laughed haughtily, “but enough so that we can hustle Liam a few quid.”

Harry rolled his eyes, unable to fight the smile on his face as he shrugged out of his coat, “Alright.”

“Alright?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded.

“Sure, Lou.”

“Great!” Louis skipped towards the table, “So let’s have a go, shall we?”

“Now?” Harry tried to keep his voice under control as he laid his jacket over the back of the sofa, “Right now?”

“Yeah, right now,” Louis grinned, plucking the bow from the table and tossing it aside, “C’mon. Unless….you’re scared.”

“Scared?” Harry scoffed, “Yeah, right. Scared of what?”

Louis shrugged, “Grab a paddle.”

“You want to make this interesting?” Harry asked, striding towards the table.

“How so?” Louis asked, spinning the paddle in his hand.

Harry shrugged, “Loser cooks dinner?”

“Ha!” Louis laughed, “No way! You love cooking and you and I both know I’m going to beat your pert little arse to a pulp.”

Harry felt his cheeks flame, but tried to remain as composed as possible as he shifted the paddle between his hands and said, “Th-that a promise?”

The air suddenly felt much heavier, and Louis’ mouth opened slightly as if he was searching for the right words before finally landing on, “You want it to be?”

Harry lifted a shoulder, unable to meet Louis’ gaze.

“Uh-uh,” Louis shook his head, setting down the paddle and walking over to Harry, “This is something to have a talk about, H. And talking doesn’t mean just shrugging. Look at me. Harry,” Louis grabbed Harry’s chin between his fingers, forcing him to meet his eyes, “You want it to be? A promise, that is.”

Harry’s cheeks flamed and couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip before finally nodding and saying, “Yeah. Um...it is.”

“Okay then,” Louis let go of Harry’s chin, reaching up to brush a stray curl gently behind his ear. Louis stepped back towards his end of the ping pong table and lifted his paddle, “Let’s do this. And like you said, let’s make this interesting. If you fail to keep up, you fumble the ball, you drop it, I’ll hold up my promise. Now then,” Louis’ grin turned Cheshire as he smacked the paddle against his hand, “ _serve_.”

Harry felt his mouth go dry. He knew Louis could read him like a book, could tell what he needed without Harry even needing to say - but of course he wouldn’t do anything without Harry being the one to say first. Every nerve ending felt electric as Harry served. His hands were practically shaking and he felt like a live wire as he tried to focus on the match as best he could. It wasn’t even a minute in before he fumbled the ball. Across the table, Louis t’sked. Harry knelt to get the ball, the tips of his ears blazing as he felt Louis’ eyes on him.

“That wasn’t very good, H,” Louis scolded, and Harry had to close his eyes, trying to compose himself before standing back to his feet.

“ ‘m sorry,” was all he could say.

“My serve,” Louis leaned to snatch the ball from Harry’s hand, “And let me show you how it’s _really_ done, by someone who knows what the hell he’s actually doing.”

Harry squirmed. Louis knew - _knew_ \- that certain things got him off like no other. Scolding was one. Embarrassment was another. And combined with Louis’ promise for after the game, Harry wasn’t sure just how long he could hold out. His own ping pong paddle was shaking in his hands. There was no way he could play properly like this, but wasn’t that Louis’ intention all along? The thought made Harry’s stomach flutter. Louis served the ball, and Harry struck back, determined to at least give it the best he could in spite of his current state. He needed to do as well as he could. He needed to do good, be good. Be good for Louis.

The match was a disaster, of course. Not as bad as the first ones they’d shared when the ping pong tables first showed up backstage, but still a disaster nonetheless. Louis had all but wiped the floor with him, and when their match was finally over, all Harry could do was twist the handle of his paddle in his hands, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“That wasn’t good, Harry. Not good at all,” Louis turned his own paddle over in his hands, “You’re never going to learn if you keep looking so fucking distracted. I believe I have a deal to uphold to now, don’t I?”

Harry sucked his lip between his teeth, nodding.

“Pull that bottom lip out of your mouth,” Louis scolded sharply, smacking the paddle to his hand and making Harry jolt, “Over the table, H. Let’s go.”

Harry nodded, leaning over the ping pong table, propping his weight up on his arms. He could hear the blood pumping inside his ears, could feel it coursing through his veins, throbbing in his neck. He had nerves before performances and fan meet ups, of course. But this was a new kind of nerves. Not fear, never fear when it came to Louis. Just….the nerves of the unknown. He didn’t know what to expect. Louis hadn’t ever spanked him before, and he hadn’t actually been spanked since he’d cut Gemma’s hair when she was sleeping when he was seven because she’d not let him play with her new computer game, and even then neither of his parents ever had the heart to do more than give him a swat. He winced, bracing himself as best he could as Louis came behind him, curling an arm around his middle.

“I think we need to get you out of these first,” Louis said, breath hot against the back of Harry’s neck as he unbuttoned Harry’s black skinny jeans, pulling them down to his ankles. Harry winced, not expecting it and feeling even more exposed and vulnerable than before. “These too,” Louis said, yanking down Harry’s pants. Harry let out a cry, shaking his head.

“Lou….”

“Shh,” Louis rubbed a gentle hand over Harry’s right cheek, “You wanted this, H. Right? You wanted this. But if you changed your mind, if you want to stop….just say the word, okay? And we’ll stop. Promise.”

Harry didn’t even have to think it over, “No. No, please, Lou. Please. I….I need.”

“I know,” Louis nodded, kissing between Harry’s shoulder blades, “Now then, lay flat against the table, just like that.”

Harry folded over the table until his cheek was flushed against the cool, green surface. His arse was high in the air, the edge of the table digging uncomfortably against the softness of his stomach. 

“Okay, baby?” Louis asked softly, voice gentle and almost timid. Nothing like the confident, cold Louis from moments before.

Harry nodded, “ ‘m okay.”

“Alright. Gonna start now, okay?”

Harry nodded again.

“We’re going to do ten to start, see how you’re doing. If you’re okay after ten, I’ll push it to fifteen. If you need to stop, you just tell me okay? Color system, right? That’s what people use, huh? Green for good, yellow for pause, and red for stop-right-the-fuck-now, okay? You just tell me, okay precious?”

Harry nodded, his head feeling hazy, heavy, “Okay.”

“What’s your color, babe?” Louis asked.

“Green,” Harry said without doubt.

“Beautiful,” Louis ran the paddle over Harry’s bum, teasingly and deceptively gentle. Harry could feel the goosebumps left in it’s wake and he fought the shiver that worked it’s way through his spine as Louis ran the paddle gently over the backs of his thighs. 

The first strike took Harry by surprise, and he cried out, jumping. Louis pressed a harsh hand against the small of his back, pinning him against the table. The second strike came even harder than the first, and Louis moved his hand from Harry’s back to tangle in his curls, still holding him in place. His hands twisted in the curls, making Harry’s eyes sting as he said, “I said to count. You miss one, and you get another for each one missed.”

Harry whimpered, willing his brain to work and say, “One.”

“Very good,” Louis praised, before raining down the next few strikes. Harry gasped out each number, eyes prickling and growing blearly with each harsh strike of the paddle. Louis held nothing back, and was as ruthless and composed as he’d been while playing, even more so in fact. The strikes he was laying into him were nothing like the playful smacks he’d give him in passing. Harry could feel the heat of each one blooming against his abused flesh. Louis could be damn strong, and it was clear he was holding nothing back in giving this to Harry.

Finally, Harry cried out, “Ten,” before letting his forehead collapse into his arms, hiding his face and feeling the damp tears against his arms.

“Color?” Louis asked.

“G-green,” Harry answered.

“Five more then,” Louis stroked the paddle across Harry’s arse, and Harry jerked instinctively from the contact. “Five more,” Louis said, his voice composed, but gentle again, “And then we’ll be done. Count them again. Starting with eleven.”

Harry nodded and Louis brought the paddle down again. The last five were the hardest ones yet, and Harry didn’t even realize he’d been sobbing until Louis tossed the paddle aside and Harry registered the wetness of the table against his cheek. Louis knelt behind Harry, pressing soft kisses against each bloom of pink against Harry’s skin before standing and gathering Harry into a hug. He brushed the matted curls off his forehead, tucking them with care behind his ears and kissing away the tears on his cheeks.

“You did so well for me, precious. So, so well.”

Harry beamed at the compliment, feeling softness and warmth all over, “Thank you, Louis.”

“I mean it, Hazza. So, so good. Wow. What do you say I run us a bath, hmm? Take a nice little soak and we can talk. After that, we can order some pizza and put on whatever film you’d like, okay? How’s that sound, baby?”

Harry tried to answer, but couldn’t find the words to form a sentence. He just nodded instead, tucking his face into the crook of Louis’ neck and breathing him in happily.

Louis chuckled, gently pulling him off, “Alright, you. Let’s get you upstairs and into the tub. We need to have a little chat, eh? And I want us to be comfy for it.”

Louis grasped Harry’s hand in his own and together they made their way upstairs to their master bath. Harry stood awkwardly in the doorway as he watched Louis fill the tub with steaming water, dumping in several scoops of Harry’s milk bath and adding some of his prized bath salts as well. In a little pile by Harry’s feet were his jeans and his pants that Louis had helped him out of downstairs.

“Bath’s ready,” Louis moved towards, Harry, helping him out of his shirt, lifting it over his head before taking off his own clothes, “Come into the bath with me, angel. We can talk while I wash your hair, okay?”

Harry nodded and Louis helped him into the bath. The steaming water felt like a baptism against his skin, though the harsh porcelain of the tub was unforgiving on his sore bum. Louis crawled into the tub behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle and pressing kisses to his shoulders and back.

Harry hummed happily, “Feels good.”

“Good,” Harry could feel Louis smile as he pressed more kisses against his skin, “Gonna wash your hair now, baby. And we need to talk about this,” Louis untangled his arms from Harry’s middle, squeezing some strawberry mango shampoo into his palms, “Where did this come from, baby? How long has this been something you’ve wanted?”

Harry sighed as Louis’ fingers worked deftly through his curls, blunt nails scratching perfectly into his scalp, “I dunno,” Harry shifted in the tub, “I hadn’t really thought about it until we first played ping pong. You and Liam were going at it and you looked so good holding that paddle, and I just couldn’t help but think how good you’d be at wielding it….against….me.”

“That so?” Louis’ voice was soft, curious, “So is this….is this something you’d want again?”

“I….I think so,” Harry bit his bottom lip, trying to think over the answer he wanted to give, “It’s not the first time I’ve gotten a bit….hot and bothered by the thought of you giving me a spanking. When you tap me on the arse, or squeeze it….when you’re possessive like that. It’s so, _so_ fucking hot, Lou.”

“Jesus,” Louis said on an exhale.

“Is….is that alright?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious, in spite of just having had his bare naked arse paddled in the middle of their living room. Suddenly he felt worried - what if Louis wasn’t okay with this, or what if it wasn’t something he was willing to give to Harry again. Harry would understand, he would. He would never dream of putting Louis into a position he didn’t want to be in. Besides, they hadn’t even really discussed it before. Harry felt nauseous. Suddenly, Louis’ lips were on his shoulder again, his nose nuzzling against his shoulder blade.

“Baby,” Louis said against his skin, “I would give you the moon on a fucking string if I could. I’ll give you whatever it is you need, whatever it is you want.”

Harry’s eyes stung with tears again, overwhelmed with love for his boy, “I don’t want you to do something you’re not into, Lou. I’ll understand if you don’t want to. ‘S a bit weird, I know….”

“No, Hazza. No, baby. It’s not weird at all. It’s something you like, and of course I want to give that to you. I….I haven’t considered it before. But it’s not something I’m opposed to, not at all. Besides, making you feel good makes _me_ feel good. And if hurting you every once in awhile makes you feel good, I can do that for you. But this is something we’re going to have to talk a lot more about, Hazza. It’s not just a one time talk, okay. I need to know how far you want to go with this, what other things you might be into. I need to know what your limits are, and you need to know mine. And we need….we need a safe word. And….”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, “Lou,” he twisted around as best he could in the confines of the tub to face his boyfriend, “This is all new to me too, okay? But we’ll figure it out together, yeah? One step at a time, okay.”

Louis visibly relaxed, reaching out a soapy finger to poke at the place where Harry’s dimple hid, “Good, just as long as you don’t expect me to be running out to purchase a flogger come tomorrow morning or summat like that.”

Harry’s cheeks flamed, “Jesus, Lou!” 

“What?” Louis giggled, “It’s a possibility. You think you might want that one day?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at his boy, “We can work up to it. For now, let’s just stick to what we have.”

“I’m just saying,” Louis spun Harry back around so he could rinse the shampoo from his hair with a cup of water, “we should probably keep whatever kinky things we use to being something more private. Don’t really want to picture Liam or Niall for God’s sakes playing ping pong with the paddle I use to spank you.”

It was Harry’s turn to giggle, “Good point. We can do a bit of online shopping this week if you’d like.”

“I’m game if you are,” Louis rinsed the shampoo from Harry’s curls, “This isn’t like a….a lifestyle thing though is it. Because I don’t think I can handle that, just being honest, H.”

“No, no,” Harry reached around to squeeze Louis’ knee, “I don’t want that either. Believe me, I love our vanilla sex very, very much. Nothing is boring with you, Lou. Nothing. I just….I want to explore this sometimes. Like if I’m ever being overly stroppy or too much of a brat.”

“So you admit you can be a brat at times then!” Louis’s fingers dug mercilessly into Harry’s ribs, making him squeal and attempt to bat at his hands until finally showing mercy and kissing his shoulder to make up for his assault. Harry rolled his eyes and splashed at Louis.

“ ‘m just saying….”

“I know, baby,” Louis soothed, “Alright. When you’re being a stroppy brat, then.”

“And….and maybe other times too. We’ll talk about it though.”

“Of course. Whatever you need, angel. Whatever you want.”

“The same goes to you too, okay? Whatever you want or need, you just tell me, Lou. Whatever you’re into, whatever I can make good for you.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle, pulling him against his chest, “What I’m into is _you_. Always you, only you. Now then, how about we get out of this tub before we turn into a proper pair of prunes; dry us off and get some lotion on that bum of yours. Then we can tuck up on the couch and order some pizza and we can put on whatever movie you want, baby. How’s that sound for the night?”

“Perfect, Lou. So perfect.”

“God damn it.”

“What?” Harry turned to his boy.

“Nothing, just fighting the urge to say ‘you’re perfect.’” Louis poked Harry in the tummy, “Turning me into a proper sop, you are.”

Harry preened, “Am not. You’ve _always_ been a sop, Lou.”

Louis rolled his eyes, stepping out of the tub and reaching a hand out to help Harry, “C’mon you.”

That night, they spent the evening watching _Love Actually_ and _The Notebook_ , nibbling pizza and smearing pizza grease onto each other’s cheeks before shutting of the television and moving back upstairs for bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms with content smiles upon their faces.

Three days later when Liam and Niall came over for Sunday roast, they both scurried to the ping-pong table.

“Oh sweet!” Niall grabbed a paddle, “When did you get this?”

“My serve!” Liam snatched the second paddle.

Harry’s eyes widened and Louis giggled, making him giggle too.

“We’re _really_ going to need to place that online order soon, aren’t we?” Louis asked, reaching down to pinch Harry’s bum, right where he knew a bruise from the two other spankings he’d given Harry since the first had bloomed.

“What’s that?” Liam called from where he served the ball.

“Hush, you,” Harry swatted at Louis, “Nothing, Liam. I call next match!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please reblog the tumblr post [here](http://wellingtontat.tumblr.com/post/162306015758/your-serve-didnt-know-you-were-that-good-lou). Kudos, comments, and bookmarks make my day :)


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